


Safety

by WingsWill



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Domlene, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12950526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsWill/pseuds/WingsWill
Summary: "You know I can't believe that though, right? Not now." Dom admits, her voice conflicted. “This isn’t easy for me.” She gestures between them dejectedly, “What we did. There’s no do-over. I know you’re sorry, but that doesn’t make it suck any less.”





	1. Chapter 1

It felt like days had gone by in merely a few hours, like time around her was in free fall. With one conversation Dom puts together the last piece of information she needs to act, quietly storming down the hallway and into the interrogation room where Darlene is being held, freeing her from the handcuffs that chain her to the table.  
  
Dom roughly yanks on Darlene’s arm and pulls her up, ushering her out of the room in a hurry, signalling at her to be quiet.  
  
“What the fuck?” Darlene snaps under her breath, glaring at Dom.

“Shut up and follow me.”

Wordlessly they walk towards the elevator, Dom not daring to speak until the doors close. Jabbing at the parking lot floor button, Dom lets out a breath and leans against the cold steel. “It’s Agent Santiago,” Dom murmurs, glancing over at Darlene, gauging her reaction. She stays quiet, the only indication she hears Dom is the concern inching across her face.  
  
“I didn’t know, I don’t know how I could of missed this.” Dom says running a hand through her hair, standing up straight as she watches the floor numbers tick down. Darlene hears the anguish in Dom’s voice, and the feeling of regret forces her eyes to the floor.  
  
“I am going to get you out of here, somewhere safe. I can’t believe how fucking stupid I am.” Dom growls out the last words, berating herself. The obnoxious ding of the elevator distracting her with something she knows. Eliminate the threat. Get to safety.  _Protect_. Dom scans the parking lot, almost expecting to see a group of dark army in motorbike helmets with guns drawn, ready to erase the pair from Whiterose’s timeline. Nodding at Darlene in what she hopes is a reassuring gesture, she moves quickly towards a black suburban and motions for Darlene follow. 

Darlene wills her feet to move, as the gravity of the situation settles uncomfortably on her shoulders. She feels a surge of panic bubble up and spill over as she watches Dom disappear into the car. Taking a deep breath she starts pacing towards it.

Hands shaking only slightly as she puts the keys in the ignition, Dom flexes her fingers and grips the steering wheel, looking over at Darlene as she slumps into the passenger seat.

“Can you disable the GPS?” Dom says, not bothering to wait for acknowledgement. She starts the car and heads towards the parking lot exit, forming a plan in her mind to get out of the danger they both know is looming, closing in on them as the minutes go by. Lowering the driver’s side window, Dom feels around in her pocket for her phone, and throws it out the window.

After awhile, the city starts to dissipate behind them, harsh concrete slowly transitioning to green. Even the landscape appears bleak in the rearview mirror. Dom’s greyish blue eyes border on hawk-like as she checks the road behind them, looking for signs of cars following. They had been driving in silence, the sound of road noise drowned out by the dead air between them. Darlene rests her head against the window as guilt seeps in, crawling all over her skin, her gaze flicks towards Dom, who is watching the road, shoulders tense and knuckles white.

“I’m sorry,” Darlene’s tired voice breaks the silence, her words wavering slightly.

“Using you like that. Everything.” She shifts in her seat focusing on Dom. The revelation that Dom is here, next to her, still trying to help her, after what she has done, hangs heavily over her head. She shivers, a sudden tangibility to the revulsion in her actions.

“There’s a motel around here, a couple of blocks away. We can pay in cash. It'll be okay for now, a few days if it comes to that.” Dom says, quick to direct the conversation to something more practical. She spots a secluded street and pulls over, cutting the engine. Dom exhales and stares out of the windscreen at nothing in particular, flinching as she feels a hand rest softly just above her knee, inwardly resentful that it doesn’t feel out of place like she knows it should.   
  
“I’m sorry.” Darlene tries again, squeezing the agents thigh gently, hoping not to spook her. “It’s fucked up. This is so fucked up.” Darlene says, her blue eyes searching Dom's face for signs of understanding, forgiveness. 

“Yeh, it is.” Dom agrees distantly, taking the keys from the ignition, getting out of the car and out of Darlene's reach. She walks around to the back of the suburban and opens the boot, grabbing a duffle bag full of the basics she reserves in case of emergencies. A change of clothes, first aid kit, cash. She feels for the gun she keeps at her hip, collecting herself as Darlene makes her way to the back of the car. 

“You okay?” Dom asks, slinging the bag over her shoulder, letting her eyes meet Darlene’s for the first time since they had driven out of the FBI parking lot.

“Are you?” Darlene wearily shoots back, waiting for the agent to move so she can follow.

 

* * *

 

They had made it to the motel with little incident, paying in cash and acquiring a two bed room without prying questions from the manager at the front desk. It's stale looking, but it appears to be relatively clean, fresh towels sitting on the edge of the beds. A typical motel kitchenette in one corner, two beds squeezed together up against the wall towards the middle of the room, and a door that led to what Dom assumes is an ensuite, in the other.

Darlene watches Dom walk towards the sink, observing how defeated she looks as she takes a glass from the cupboard and pours herself some water. Sipping it nonchalantly, back resting against the counter, closing her eyes in exhaustion.   
  
“You don’t have to help me you know. This Thelma and Louise thing we’re doing.” Darlene says awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, stretching as she moves to sit on the edge of one of the beds.

“You’re allowed to leave, Dom.” Darlene broaches, working at untying her shoelaces. Dom sighs, placing her glass on the nightstand next the bed and sits down, hunched over with her head in her hands, anxiously noting that her bed isn’t far enough away from Darlene’s.

“I’ll talk to Elliot, we can get into Sentinel and undo the hack.” Darlene continues, kicking her shoes off. “You don’t have to be the good, tireless FBI agent. You can get away from this, if you wanted to.” She finishes, adjusting her position on the bed, shuffling back to prop herself up against the headboard. Silently offering Dom some space. 

"I'm not." Dom mutters, her voice obscured by the hands in front of her face. 

"You aren't what?" Darlene asks, folding her hands in her lap, turning one thumb over the other trying to kill some of the nervous energy humming through her veins, watching intently as Dom considers her words.

"A good agent, last night..." Dom trails off, desperately trying not to think about it. Thoughts of the night before had been invading her mind in bits and pieces all morning. Finding their way in as her brain worked at getting Darlene away from danger, fresh and unwanted memories filling the gaps. The way her body had burned with embarrassment and longing as she watched Darlene sway to the music, the brunette’s big eyes luring her in at the bar, making her feel like she was drowning. Darlene’s lips as she repeated Dom’s name like a gentle prayer, a promise.

"You were playing me and I couldn't see it..." Dom says, scoffing at the sound of her own words, "I wanted to believe it was real so badly that I didn't see it _wasn't_." Darlene's stomach twists and sinks at Dom’s admission. Acutely aware of the fact she could still feel the way Dom's kisses had grown from timid and questioning to brave, so brave in a matter of moments. How strong hands had tangled in her hair and replaced the worry she felt with unanticipated and all-consuming yearning. Making her forget in a breathless onslaught of the most delicate desire she’d ever felt. 

"I get it, you know." Dom lifts her head up from her hands and looks at Darlene pointedly, "You did what you had to do, I was collateral damage. Fair play.” She says, bitterly. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you.” Darlene rasps, her throat constricting with regret, strangling her words. She sits up, turning to face Dom on the bed opposite her. Fingers twitching with the need to soothe and repent.

"I'm going to take a shower." Dom says abruptly, grabbing the towel next to her on the bed, striding towards the duffle bag on the floor and heaving it onto the bed, she unzips it, riffling around to find some clean clothes for herself. 

"It was going to happen, you know?” Darlene’s subdued words break the awkward tension edging its way into the room. “After the first time we met at the bar, I thought about you—” Darlene pauses, regaining some composure, “I keep thinking about it, last night." Darlene pushes herself to speak, this feels important, truthful. Dom's hands still their movement, her eyes regarding Darlene carefully. 

“I didn’t expect it to go as far as it did.” Darlene states, eyes falling to the hands in her lap nervously, unable to meet Dom's stare. “God, this sounds so fucking dumb.” Darlene mumbles, running a hand over her face.

“When I opened the safe, I should’ve been relieved. But, I wasn’t. I felt worse.” Dom remains unmoving, anxious of where Darlene was going with this. Darlene takes a deep breath and sighs, annoyed with herself for rambling.  

“What I’m trying to say is… I _wanted_ last night to happen, without the whole ‘me needing to commit felonies and fuck you over’ thing.” Darlene leans over, invading the space where Dom is standing and picks at the blanket in front of Dom’s legs.   
  
“I like you, Dom. I didn’t lie about that, and it’s not a new thing.” Darlene offers, glancing up at Dom, leaving no space for Dom to misunderstand or misinterpret.

Heart pounding in her chest at the confession, Dom looks down at Darlene and lets out a shaky breath. Her hands, suddenly desperate to find something to do, make a grab for the clothes she has in her bag, setting aside an oversized FBI shirt and jeans for herself, not knowing what to do with the new information.

"Your social game isn't as bad as you think, dude.” Darlene adds, leaning back, earning a weak laugh from Dom as she picks out a shirt and shorts for Darlene and throws them at her carelessly. 

"You know I can't believe that though, right? Not now." Dom admits, her voice conflicted. “This isn’t easy for me.” She gestures between them dejectedly, “What we did. There’s no do-over. I know you’re sorry, but that doesn’t make it suck any less.” Dom says, reaching out for her clothes, moving towards the bathroom door, closing it softly behind her. 

 

* * *

 

 

Dom peels off her clothes gradually, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She fixes her gaze to the ceiling as she steps into the shower, turning on the water, urging herself not to look down at the marks she knows Darlene has left on her body. The flow of hot water easing the tension in her muscles. Doubt creeps in swiftly, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that there is a real possibility when she finishes her shower, she could walk back into an empty room.

She picks up the soap, scrubbing at her skin, attempting to chase the thoughts away as the heat from the shower turns her skin pink. Looking down Dom observes a smudge of purple sitting lowly on her stomach, She moves her thumb over it, scrutinizing the mark. In a second the image of Darlene settled between her legs overwhelms her, recalling the warmth of Darlene’s mouth as it left unhurried kisses across the soft flesh of her hips, biting down hard as Dom let out a groan of frustrated pleasure.

Dom shuts her eyes and tips her head back, hearing it thud against the tiles, her legs trembling slightly at the memory. Turning the shower off, she wraps the towel around herself and pats her body dry, gathering her clothes from the counter, wiping away the steam on the mirror with her forearm. She dresses in the quiet room hastily, tying her hair up in a messy ponytail, rubbing the remainder of mascara off her eyelids.Once she’s done she fights off the urge to pace in the small room like a caged animal, feeling vulnerable and stranded. She exhales audibly as her hand reaches for the door handle.

“Hey.” Darlene says from her spot on the bed, appearing not to have moved. Eyes downcast, her figure framed by the sunlight peaking through the outdated curtains hanging on the windows. Dom’s stoic resolve cracking at the sight.

“You like me.” Dom blurts out, mentally chastising herself for sounding like a teenager. Walking further into the room, uncertain where to stand.

“Astute observation, detective. I wonder how you pieced that one together.” Darlene smirks, the invisible weight pressing down on her chest feeling lighter at Dom’s words. Eyes drifting towards Dom’s, squinting as she opens her mouth to speak again, “What about it?”

“I just, um—” Dom falters, nerve endings short-circuiting at Darlene’s attention, her lips quirking up at the sound of Dom’s stutters. “Since when?” Dom asks stepping closer, too close, to where Darlene sits, her brain protesting at the instinctive reflex. 

“Awhile.” Darlene replies ambiguously, shifting to the edge of the bed. Her feet dropping to the floor, halting their movement as Dom speaks, “I’m so mad at you.”

“I know.” Darlene says reaching up to touch Dom’s hand, her index finger trailing from Dom’s wrist, down the back of her hand and across her knuckles, breaking the contact as it slips past Dom’s fingertips.

Dom feels her body react immediately, electricity invading her bones with a rush of warmth, Darlene reaches out again, this time to knot her hands in the bottom of Dom’s stupidly oversized shirt, drawing her into the empty space between her knees.

“I’ll never be able to listen to John Prine the same way again.” Dom divulges and fidgets, fists clenching and unclenching as her arms hang uselessly at her sides. Darlene barks out a laugh and tugs harder with the fingers wrapped up in Dom’s shirt.

“Good.” Darlene says looking up at Dom’s face, blue eyes sparkling with unexpected affection she holds for her, a small smile playing at her lips as she waits for Dom to move, cautious not to overstep her boundaries.

Dom leans down, inch by inch, working up the courage to _touch_. She places her hands on either side of Darlene’s jaw, thumbs tracing back and forth on the soft skin she finds there, gently curling her fingers into the hair at the back of Darlene’s neck, closing the remaining space between them.  
  
“I like you too.” Dom whispers, and kisses Darlene’s lips in surrender.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following on from the first chapter.

“What are we going to do…” Dom complains, lips swollen, strands of hair threatening to break free from her ponytail, peering down at Darlene beneath her.

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” Darlene says, “But if you’re confused I can make it more clear for you.” Determined hands slip under Dom’s shirt, clawing at her back, nails travelling down a path she had discovered not even twenty four hours earlier. Dom let's out a moan of approval, reconnecting her lips with Darlene's neck. Growing more impatient by the second, Darlene shifts her hips up, trying to gain some friction, desperate to do something about the fire that's building and burning inside her. She reaches out for Dom’s face, drawing her mouth towards her own. 

Darlene’s picked up on how the different parts she’s grown to know in Dom intertwine when they’re together, the awkward outsider and the fearless FBI agent in unison, balanced. She’s also, very recently, noticed that there is something in the combination that drives her absolutely insane with _want_ and _need_. She kisses Dom thoroughly at the thought, tugging her close as she bites down on a bottom lip, sliding her tongue into Dom’s mouth as she gasps, hands roaming.

“That’s— that’s not what I meant.” Dom stutters and lifts her head, indulgently gazing into blue eyes that are hazy with rapture. 

“Darlene, seriously, we need to think about this for a second.” She whines out, her knees sitting either side of Darlene’s hips, willpower waning as she feels Darlene’s fingers wander into the back pockets of her jeans. She can't recall the last time she felt this affected, this out of control at the hands of someone else.

"Are you freaking out? Too fast?" Darlene questions apprehensively, bringing her fingers out from the pockets of Dom’s jeans to rest at the small of her back, dipping under the hem of her shirt, comfortingly stroking the skin underneath her fingers. Dom leans back a little, trying to put a fraction of space between them.

“I’m not freaking out about this. About you.” Dom says with certainty, reassuring her by ducking down to steal a kiss, witnessing the tension in Darlene’s face ease at her actions, “Although, thinking about it, I’m freaked out that I’m not freaked out.” Darlene grins as Dom places her hands on her stomach, fiddling with the fabric of her shirt. 

“So what’s got a bee in your bonnet, MacGyver?” Darlene asks, shifting slightly, propping herself up on her elbows, careful not to move too suddenly, not wanting to distract Dom from the shapes she’s tracing over her shirt. 

Dom snorts a laugh at the nickname, swatting at Darlene. She adjusts, letting her body flop down next to Darlene on the bed, making an effort to get her pulse to return to a normal rate, Darlene groans at the loss of contact. Turning on her side, Dom resumes drawing aimless patterns, this time her fingers finding skin.

“We have no new information to go on. We’re hiding, waiting for them to find us.” Dom answers, concern swimming in her eyes. 

“Sitting ducks.” Darlene offers, angling her body towards Dom, shuffling closer, pushing down on the pillow where her head is resting to study Dom’s face as she speaks. 

“Exactly.” Dom’s hand creeps further underneath Darlene’s shirt, her palm settling over Darlene’s ribcage, soothed by the inhale and exhale of her lungs. She watches as Darlene processes her words, eyebrows knitted together in speculation.

“Scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” Darlene says, possessively moving a hand to grip at Dom’s hip, the voice in her head hissing at her to be _closer_ , she interlocks her legs with Dom’s, giving into the impulse, acutely aware that her body hasn’t stopped buzzing from Dom’s previous attention.

“I think you know the answer to that.” Dom continues, “There’s no straightforward way around this. I can’t go back into headquarters and act like nothing has happened, they know I have you. Surveillance would of picked up both of us leaving at the same time. Together. I _stole_ you from the FBI.” Dom adds, perplexed by the monumental shit storm they are in. Darlene feels Dom’s muscles tense against her, and she’s surprised by the immediate instinct to fix, baffled at the intimacy. 

“I know how Santiago’s going to spin this.” Dom sighs wearily, her thoughts hijacked with an intense feeling of anguish and self loathing. Inching forward she presses a kiss to Darlene’s shoulder, nuzzling her face in the crook of Darlene’s neck. 

“How?” Darlene asks, reaching out for the hand beneath her shirt, bringing it up to her face to pepper Dom’s knuckles with kisses, she laces their fingers together, undeterred by the abrupt shift in the atmosphere. 

“Us. That I’ve been part of this from the beginning. Working on the inside.” Dom replies dismally, “I’ve been obsessed with five nine and fsociety, it wouldn't be that far of a stretch to believe I was playing spy and I’m a loner, no one there knows me outside of work. It’ll make sense that someone is working with the dark army, how they were always two steps ahead.” Dom finishes, voice tight.

At the admission, Darlene winces, feeling a pang of guilt pierce through her heart, violently ricocheting through her veins. She realizes how much this means to Dom, to be considered a traitor by the agency, the one she’s worked her whole life for, and nearly died to protect. She slides a hand up to Dom’s cheek, caressing her face in slow and steady motions, hoping to alleviate some of the ache. 

“I’m so sorry.” Darlene says, leaning forwards to kiss the corner of Dom’s mouth, delicately grazing her lips over the skin within her reach. 

“I know, I know. It’s okay, you don’t need to keep apologizing. I didn’t have to ask you to stay for another drink or take you back to my apartment, I didn’t have to say yes. It’s not your fault that Santiago is one of them.” Dom says, eyes focused on Darlene’s, bumping their forehead’s together.

“I don’t want to run. I want to fix this and I know it needs to be done tonight. Before dark army get there first.” Darlene gently pushes on Dom’s shoulders until her back hits the mattress, she crawls on top of Dom, straddling her. 

“We will. We will fix this. Tonight. We wait for Elliot, he knows what I was trying to do last night,” She says as she sprawls out across Dom’s body, eyes reflecting the shame she feels at her own words as she looks down, “And if he doesn’t come, we’ll find him. There’s a way in. He’ll help us.” Dom drags her hands up Darlene’s thighs, squeezing lightly. Darlene’s hips press down at the contact instinctively. 

“I can’t shake the feeling that there is a dark army death squad hunting us right now.” Dom says, glancing over to her gun on the nightstand. 

“Hey,” Darlene snaps out, bringing her hands back to Dom’s face, turning it forcefully towards her own, attempting to derail Dom’s train of thought. “There probably is, but they aren’t going to find us, not here.” Darlene brushes her hair to one side as she leans down, demanding attention from Dom’s eyes as she speaks, “We aren’t safe, but we’re safe for now.” Dom nods, tightening her hold on the legs below her palms, the hard lines on her face unravelling.

“Okay.” Dom relents, closing the lingering space, not wanting to waste anymore time. Darlene kisses her hard, making her toes curl from the first touch of her lips, like Darlene has lit a match against her mouth and set her on fire. She begrudgingly breaks contact with Dom, only to grip the base of her shirt, lifting it up over her head and throwing it onto the floor, crashing her lips into Dom’s in storm of tongues and teeth.

They kiss with frenzy, Darlene tugging at her shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin, and when she succeeds, Dom’s sense of control fractures at the sound of Darlene’s needy moans. With one hand she reaches up for the waistband of Darlene’s shorts and pops the button open, roughly yanking on the zipper. Darlene lifts her hips and hurriedly pushes her shorts to her knees, kicking them to the floor, settling on top of Dom as she rocks forward, her body wordlessly begging for _more_. Dom’s hand disappears into the hair Darlene’s swept to the side of her neck, fingers tangling in the locks, fiercely jerking Darlene’s head back towards her mouth. 

Darlene claws at Dom’s breasts, shoving the bra that’s obstructing her from warm flushed skin, up and out of the way, her mouth moving to nip and suck at the spot on Dom’s neck she knows will make her weak. Thumbs grazing the underside of Dom’s breasts, catching a stiff peak as Dom swears loudly. 

Darlene is wild like this, brain shaken with lust, pulling her apart piece by piece, an animalistic need pouring into every sound and every movement. Dom moves her fingers to Darlene’s back, deftly working at the clasps of her bra, she slides the straps down Darlene’s shoulders, casting it to the other side of the room once they are free, pulse spiking at the vision in front of her eyes. 

“I swear to god Dom, if you st—,” Before Darlene can finish her pleas, Dom snakes a hand into Darlene’s underwear, sinking two fingers inside of her without warning. Darlene lets out a low groan, her head tilting backwards, nerve endings exploding. 

“You’re so wet.” Dom exclaims, voice gravelly as Darlene starts moving, riding Dom’s hand. Elevating her body until she can barely feel Dom’s fingertips inside of her, almost out of reach, and then grinds back down, feeling Dom’s fingers plunging deeper. She lunges froward, desperately searching for Dom’s mouth, kissing her frantically as Dom’s strokes move faster, deliriously in-sync with the rhythm of her hips. 

Dom kisses until she’s breathless, leveraging her hips under her hand to drive her fingers harder into Darlene who is writhing above her. She adds another, as Darlene rises and falls, again and again. Darlene moans at the feeling of fullness, her lips finding Dom’s jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses across her throat. The last conscious decision Darlene makes is to bite down on Dom’s pulse point, feeling it humming beneath her skin.

Dom feels Darlene start to tighten around her fingers and she adjust her thumb, pressing it against Darlene’s clit, working it in definite circles, watching as Darlene loses her mind. She comes hard, hips bucking ferociously, gasping in ecstasy as she moves her lips to Dom’s ear. 

“That was… fucking amazing.” Darlene exhales breathlessly, melting into Dom as she feels her strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. She lifts her head, looking at Dom with eyes filled with awe.

A small smile spreads across Dom’s face at the sight, she dips down and kisses Darlene adoringly, moving one of her hands to comb through the unruly locks of Darlene’s hair, scratching at her scalp gently as she works. 

“We’re going to be okay, you know.” Darlene says, resting a hand on Dom’s chest, thankful for the heart beating steadily below it. 

“Yeh, I think we are.” Dom replies, her voice soft and overflowing with tenderness despite knowing what is coming, the inescapable danger that is waiting for both of them.

“How are you still wearing so much?” Darlene demands, legitimately shocked.   
  
Dom _laughs._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been able to watch the finale yet. (I live in australia and everything is inconvenient)  
> So if things in this don't match up, that's why.


End file.
